


Project Proposal

by orphan_account



Series: Nine-to-five 'Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-11
Updated: 2010-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen gets nervous about class presentations and well...maybe he has good reason to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Project Proposal

His phone buzzes with the text message just as he's leaving his last class of the day.  It's almost spring, rainy and depressing but at least it's warmer than it's been in months.  Jensen shuffles his books in one arm and flips open his phone with the other.  It's from Sophia.

location change- 9pm at the office

  
It's a little strange, but not completely unheard of; sometimes Mr. Padalecki works late and wants a quickie in the office before he heads home, or just a break to work off some tension.  There's some kind of big merger going down with one of the companies subsidiaries or something and Jensen doesn't know the details but he knows Jared has been laser focused on it for the past two weeks.

He texts Sophia back with a quick acknowledgment and heads back to his apartment to grab some dinner and get ready first.

His fridge is kind of depressingly bare, and Jensen's ordered enough take out over the past few months that he's started getting those _looks_ from the delivery guys.  At least two of the people staffing the phone lines have started remembering his name.  "Ah, your usual then?" They'll say and Jensen feels like they're mocking him even if they're being perfectly nice about it.  He's got some lettuce and two scrawny ends of bread, and the dairy bin yields a nearly full pack of American cheese.  Bland and gross,  but better than another night of Chinese food in styrofoam cartons with complimentary flatware silverware.

He flips through the mail as he eats.  Jensen doesn't know where the utility bills get sent, but it's never here.  He's got a stack of junk mail, a Men's Health magazine (not his idea, Sandy had bought him a subscription as a birthday joke), and a cheesy postcard from Chris.  He sticks it up on fridge and makes a mental note to call Chris when he gets home later tonight.

By now getting ready is a rote process.  He absentmindedly showers and shaves, lets himself air dry as the moisturizer sinks into his skin.  A meeting at the office means full suit and tie, he can't get away with pajamas or the slouchy college kid look the way he does when they meet up at Jared's.   It's a little bit of a pain, getting dressed up when he knows he'll be wearing the suit for an hour at most.  He stalls outside the closet for a little while.  Jensen's never really had a reason to learn about picking out suits and matching ties.  Dress clothes just kind of show up in his closet, the change of hangers the only way he can tell whether something just came back from the cleaners or is brand new.

He doesn't know who picks out the suits either; Mr. Padalecki likes to micromanage a lot when it comes to him, but he's a busy man.  Maybe he delegates to Sophia or his own tailor.  Jensen shrugs, decides to stick with simple: white shirt, black suit, blue-ish tie.  There's always a little thrill of anticipation right before he heads into a meeting with Mr. Padalecki, almost like stage fright.  He smooths down the front of his suit jacket and reminds himself that his suit is really the least important part of his job responsibilities.

The office building is mostly dark, dim emergency lighting just enough for security to make their way around with flashlights.  It doesn't matter much, Jensen's traveled this route often enough he could do it with his eyes closed, but it's still strange seeing this place so empty and shadowed when it's usually full of bright, bustling energy.  He makes his way up to the elevator. 

Top floor; nothing but the best offices and the best views.

The lights on the executive offices floor are all on, different but just as empty.  He finds Mr. Padalecki leaning back in his office chair, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, hair fluffed up in a mess.  Frustrated, tired, probably more than a little sleep deprived.  Jensen knows the feeling.

He clears his throat softly, standing in the doorway with one hand poised to knock, doesn't want to interrupt but he hates being late.  Mr. Padalecki looks up and his whole expression brightens.  The workaholic businessman falls away a little bit and it's Jared, casual and maybe a little bit loopy from staring at the computer screen for too long.

"Jen!" He says and waves him on in.  "What's up?  How're classes?"

"Good."  The first few minutes always leave Jensen off-balance, still trying to figure out what Jared wants, what needs he's supposed to anticipate.  Sometimes things are straightforward and simple, but sometimes it's like right now when Jensen expected a quickie over the desk to let off some steam and here Jared is, making small talk instead.  "Got a couple of group projects coming up, presentations, papers.  The usual."

Jared huffs out a laugh.  "I know how it is, I've got this business trip coming up to the New York office.  Whole bunch of presentations and boring meetings.  All the exciting stuff happens during the coffee breaks anyway."  He chucks a pen down on the desk and sends a couple pieces of paper flying.  "Good news for you at least, getting off next week?"

"Huh?"  In his own defense, Jensen's been pretty busy with school lately.  He pretty much relies on Sophia and Janine to remind him if any work-related stuff is coming up.

"Next week, Jensen.  I'm in New York so you have off.  All of this stuff is in your schedule, do you ever even check Meeting Maker?"

"Uhh, no?  Meeting maker?"

"It's a- you know what?  Never mind.  You've gotten on this far without it, no need to pile more work on you.  C'mon,"  Jared levers himself out of his chair and walks off towards the door.  Jensen follows after, no idea what's going on but not bothering to ask about it.  He can only take looking like so much of an idiot in one meeting.  They end up in the large conference room.  High-tech projector and videoconferencing setup, huge oak conference table and lots of cushy pretentious carved chairs.  Jensen's only been in it a couple of times, forced to sit through board meetings so people saw him doing something other than playing spider solitaire and heading into all those private meetings with Mr. Padalecki.

"What are we doing in here?"

Jared grins, all innocent excitement that promises anything but good clean fun.  "Public speaking practice.  Take off your pants."

Jensen toes off his shoes and socks, shucks his pants and only spares a second to glance back at the open door to the conference room.  Yeah, the place looks empty but there could be security guards or maintenance people, or maybe someone else working late.  Jensen can't even imagine the shitstorm that would hit if they got caught at this.  He bites his lip and tugs at the hem of his shirt uncomfortably.

Jared is busy booting up the computer but notices it anyway.

"Jen, it's my building.  I tell everyone to keep the hell off my floor for a night and they keep the hell off my floor."  Jared sits down easily in the large chair closest to the projector screen and points casually at his phone sitting on the table.  "And I may have synced my phone to the security feed of the elevator banks."

Holy crap.  Jensen should probably know better than to underestimate Jared's ah, natural talents.

Jared looks at him, considering.  "Boxers and jacket too."

Jensen pulls them off and leaves them hanging off the back of nearest chair.  It's not so much about being naked as it is about being naked &lt;i&gt;here&lt;/i&gt;.  Jared's office he's used too.  The en-suite? His apartment?  All perfectly normal.  But Jensen's having a hard time standing in this room half naked and not seeing a table full of bored older men and women, staring at him like he's a pie chart of the latest profit margins.  &lt;i&gt;Jesus.&lt;/i&gt;

He stands in front of Jared, feet bare on the carpet and mind ticking through a list of possibilities.  Fuck on the conference table, over a chair, against the floor to ceiling window spanning one long side of the room; hell, with porn going on the projector behind him?  They're both fit and Jensen's nothing if not flexible, there's not much they can't manage.  Jared runs his hands up over Jensen's thighs and hips, pushing the tails of his work shirt up past his stomach.  Jensen leans down and braces his arms on Jared's shoulders, kisses him sweet and slow and lazy.  Jared tastes like coffee, the bitter smell of it sunk deep in his hair and clothes.

Jensen shifts forward to try to climb up into Jared's lap, but Jared's hands tighten on his hips and hold him back.  "Mm, nope.  Turn 'round for me," Jared says against his lips.

He turns, peeks back over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Jared leaning over to pull something out of a bag underneath the table.  The prep is superficial at best and it doesn't take long to figure out why when Jensen feels him press a small plug inside.  Jensen breathes out slowly, adjusting to the feel of it while Jared's hands spread out to frame his hips, thumbs rubbing gentle arcs along the curves of his ass.

"Perfect.  Notes're on the desk."

"What?"  Jensen turns around to look again and finds Jared biting down on a crooked grin.

"Presentation notes.  On the desk."  He nods towards the computer desk tucked into the corner of the room, small stack of printouts neatly laid out on top.  The projector is already set to the first slide of some horrendously boring presentation, if the title is anything to judge by.

"You want me to-?"

"Most definitely.  Go get 'em, tiger," he says with mock enthusiasm and a quick slap to Jensen's bare ass.

Every adolescent nightmare about public speaking comes flooding back in an instant.  "But I don't, I don't even know what this is about!  I haven't even- "

Jared grabs him by the shirt and hauls him back.  "Shh, Jen.  Relax.  I just want a little something to remember that makes this presentation more exciting when I have to do it five hundred times next week up in New York.  No one's judging your elocution.  Just get up there, read the notes, and look real pretty for me."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not.  I've got the computer remote right here so don't worry about that.  Though I've got this other remote here and I might get them mixed up sometimes."  Jared waves the other remote around like he's not sure what it's for, then he turns it on.  _Fucker_.  It's a vibrator.  Of course it's a vibrator, because Jared is a kinky fucker and he never plays fair.  Jensen's dick twitches as the irregular hum works it's way through his body, making him shiver and his legs go a little rubbery at the same time.  He stumbles up to the computer desk and fumbles with the pages of computer printouts without seeing them at all. 

"Uh," he clears his throat.  Jared gives him a cheesy thumbs up and then flips the switch on the remote again.  The speed changes, mellowing out to an intermittent pulse.  Jensen rattles off the title card without actually remembering anything it says.

The slide changes.

"Here we see a break- breakdown of spending from last year, specifically..."  Bullet pointed lists blur in front of him, charts and graphs and tables of figures that Jensen stumbles through without caring.  None of it sinks in, just the shuffling of pages and the click of the remote.  Every time he manages a whole slide without stuttering Jared ups the intensity on the vibrator or switches the rhythm on him.  His face is sweating, cool moisture gathering at his hairline and just above his lips and he wants to wipe it away but his hands are locked in a death grip on the notes.  If he lets go of them he runs the risk of remembering he's standing here half naked and all the blinds are pulled up on the windows.  They're forty-something stories up and there's no chance anyone can actually see him, but rational thought has mostly checked out for the night.

It takes him a full minute of staring blankly at the last slide before he realizes he's reached the end.  He clears his throat and turns back to face Jared full-on.  "Any questions?"

Jared is sitting with his legs splayed wide apart and his pants unbuttoned, jacking himself slowly with a wicked half-grin on his face.   Jensen's hand slips down to his own cock without thinking.

"Put the notes down and come here."  Jensen drops the notes to the floor, the soft shuffle of pages barely registering as he falls to his knees between Jared's knees.  Jared kicks up the remote one more notch and Jensen's entire body jerks forward in response, his cock straining up farther and smearing pre-come against the front of his shirt.  He grabs onto Jared's thighs to keep from tipping over and Jared reaches around to cup the back of his head, guiding him closer and feeding the head of his cock into Jensen's mouth.  Jensen's eyes slip closed and opens his mouth to take it, licking around the head and pressing up along the underside.  He eases forward, swallowing down as far as he can and urged on by the firm press of Jared's hand on the back of his neck.  He doesn't stop until his nose is buried in the curls at the very base of Jared's cock, Jared's hands combing through his hair and petting him absentmindedly. 

Jensen can barely breathe like this and doesn't care, too distracted and torn between the throb of the plug in his ass and the weight of Jared's cock on his tongue.  The soft tugs on his hair and the scratch of the carpet on his knees fall to the back of his mind as the taste of Jared's cock hits his tongue, washes down his throat and a mix of spit and come drips down his chin.  Jensen moans at the taste, drawing an echo of a moan from Jared as his fist tightens in Jensen's hair and his hips twitch forward one last time.

Jared's hands slide down to cup his jaw, and Jensen whimpers as he's pushed back and Jared's cock slips from his mouth.  He sucks in air, lungs burning and forehead resting against Jared's thigh.  Jared lets him recover, fingers still scratching through his hair and holding him upright.

"So what's your group project on?"

Jensen huffs out a laugh that's muffled in the material of Jared's pants.  "I've no fucking clue.  You couldn't have asked me like an hour ago?"

"Nah.  This is way more fun.  You still hard, sweetheart?"

"Call me that again and I'm gonna- " Jensen trails off because Jared is grabbing him under his arms and pulling him up, turning him around to sit across Jared's lap.  He got over the embarrassment of being manhandled so easily years ago.  Sitting like this shifts the plug to a slightly different angle, deeper and even harder to ignore.  He can't stay pissed off at Jared very long, not when he's reaching down and jacking him nice and slow with his other arm wrapped around Jensen's body to keep him from slipping off. 

"What was that?"

Cheeky bastard.  "Mmph," is all Jensen actually manages to say in response.  His face is tucked into the crook of Jared's neck, one arm slung around his shoulders and the other resting on his thigh.  Jared knows just how to take him, every touch is firm and confident, hard and slow enough to walk right on the line between painful and sensual.  When he comes, he comes apart twisting on Jared's lap and nearly falling off.  Jared's fingers dig into into his hip, bunching in the ruined fabric of his shirt and holding him tight.

Jensen wipes himself down as best he can with a damp washcloth after Jared leads him back to the private bathroom and pulls the plug out with almost impersonal efficiency.  Jared has already changed suits and looks just as put together as ever, though maybe his hair is a little ruffled, while Jensen looks like he came straight out of a all night orgy.  His hair is sticking every which way and his cheeks are still flushed bright pink.  It's times like these he hates his pale skin, everything freaking shows through.

He pats down his hair ineffectually and pulls on his clothes from earlier.  The shirt is a loss and gets shoved in a trash bag, replaced by the back-up stashed away in the linen closet, one of those lessons learned back in his first few weeks on the job.

"I have next week off?"  He asks, confused.  The details from earlier are a little blurry.

"Yeah.  I've got a business trip to New York.  Seriously, ask Janine to teach you how to check your calendar online or have her email it to you every week or something."

"Um, I'll do that.  But - all of next week?"

"_Yes, _Jensen.  All of next week.  Though I wouldn't object to a phone call, if you're not too busy."

It's almost pathetic how quickly he jumps on that and he can't really explain why.  "No, no - not too busy.  We could, you know.  Talk."

"I'm hoping more than just talk," Jared winks.

  
_Well duh_, he thinks but doesn't dare say out loud.  Jensen doesn't know anyone who's quite as eager about their job as he is and sometimes he can't tell if that makes his life awesome or just embarrassing.


End file.
